The Business of Friendship
by LetItRain25
Summary: Tommy/Oliver friendship story with some Diggle and Laurel sprinkled in. First season Arrow so no spoilers. In this story Laurel and Tommy are still together. This follows the episode Unfinished Business (1x19) after Oliver is given Vertigo, and is kind of a fix-it for Tommy and Oliver Also, it's completely gratuitous Oliver-whump. Rated Mature because I'm paranoid. Enjoy! :)


Hello! So, it was originally my goal to post one story per month, but I missed December and I'm sorry! It was a crazy month for me, but hopefully I will have more time now. :)

So, I'm starting the new year off with an Arrow story. It's a Tommy/Oliver friendship story with some Diggle mixed in and Laurel sprinkled on top. This is first season Arrow so no spoilers. In this story Laurel and Tommy are still together. This follows the episode Unfinished Business (1x19), and is kind of a fix-it. Also, it's completely gratuitous Oliver-whump. Enjoy! :)

P.S. I borrowed about 3 lines from the episode, and they are underlined so you know which ones they are. I own nothing and all mistakes are my own. Thank you for reading! :)

The Business of Friendship

"You good?" Dig asks as they walk out of the building.

Oliver is barely managing to remain standing. He can't decide if he feels drunk or hungover or like he was hit by a bus. Dig's question startles him and he manages a nod, as he grabs the wall for support.

"Oliver, hey, Oliver—you with me?" Dig asks, coming to face the man.

Oliver nods again, waiting for the world to stop spinning. "Yeah, yeah, 'm good."

"Not inspiring confidence," Diggle mumbles as he looks around. Of course Oliver took the bike. No way is he letting the kid get back on that death trap.

"Come on," he says, placing a hand on Oliver's back as he gently steers him towards the car.

"Dig-" Oliver starts to protest.

"You're not driving, just get in," Dig states bluntly, opening the door for Oliver.

Oliver wants to be offended, but instead he sags in relief, landing in a slumped pile in the seat. Diggle closes the door, and Oliver leans his face on the window seeking the relief from the cool glass.

Diggle gets in on the other side and slams the door shut. Oliver jerks awake at the sound, not at all meaning to have fallen asleep in the first place. Dig hums something that sounds like he's fondly annoyed with Oliver, but Oliver's eyes are closed again before he really gets time to think it over.

Diggle's hands are tense on the steering wheel. What if he hadn't come?! What if Oliver had been left alone? Is it his job to take care of Oliver? Is it his job to care? Dig manages to grip the wheel even harder as he realizes that it doesn't matter what his job is—he does care about Oliver, and if he can help him then he will.

The last mission went ten different kinds of wrong, but as much as he may like to believe otherwise, not all of that was Oliver's fault. The fact remain that he trusts Oliver to have his back. Hopefully now Oliver can trust him in return.

The rest of the drive is uneventful. They pull up in front of the club, and Diggle goes around to help the younger man out of the vehicle.

It's good that he does because Oliver nearly falls out of the car when Dig opens the door.

"Oliver," Dig says as he catches the man. "You sure you're ok? You're not looking so good," which is an understatement Diggle thinks as he looks at the vigilante.

"'m fine…" Oliver mumbles, holding onto the car for support. He's pale, shaky and covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

"You have an interesting definition of fine," Diggle says, looking at Oliver skeptically.

"Will be…" Oliver mumbles, pushing himself away from the car. At seeing Diggle's raised eyebrow he clears his throat and makes a more concerted effort to respond, "I will be fine. Just need some sleep."

"Uh huh," Diggle agrees doubtfully. He places his hand on Oliver's back for support again, just in case.

"You going home tonight? Need a ride?" Diggle asks as they enter the old factory.

"I'll b'fine. Need t'talk to Tommy," Oliver says as he begins the slow and arduous process of escaping his uniform and getting back into street clothes. He briefly considers the more business-like attire, before deciding on the looser jeans and a t-shirt.

"You want me to wait?" Diggle offers again, uncertain about leaving Oliver alone.

Oliver shakes his head.

"Oliver," Diggle says, waiting until Oliver looks at him, concerned when Oliver's eyes seem to have a difficult time focusing on him. "You can't drive. You need a ride you call me. Ok?"

"Thank you, not just for the car, but for tonight. I needed you and you were there. Thank you," Oliver says.

"Any time, kid, any time," Diggle says, turning around as Oliver finishes pulling his clothes back on.

"See ya tomorrow!" Diggle shouts as he leaves the club.

All that Oliver wants to do is sleep, and it takes an embarrassing amount of effort to not crash on the cot that he keeps downstairs. Instead, he begins the near-Herculean task of climbing the stairs to meet Tommy.

AAAAAAAAA

"I've caught up the bookkeeping, and all my notes on the inventory are in there along with the list of suppliers that we use," Tommy says, fuming as he prepares to quit. He can't keep pretending; he can't keep pretending that Oliver isn't a killer or that a vigilante isn't in the basement or that Oliver him because he trusts Tommy to actually run the club. He doesn't even know if Oliver even thinks he's at all qualified for the job, let alone know if Oliver cares.

"I don't see why you're telling me that?" Oliver chuckles, surreptitiously leaning on the table for support. The cure he had synthesized worked in that he didn't die following the overdose, but it wasn't magic. He had still ingested some of the drug and was experiencing the same side effects he had last time.

"This club is-" Tommy says, turning to face Oliver.

"Are you ok?" Tommy suddenly finds himself asking instead. Oliver is leaning on the table and each blink seems to take twice as long as is really necessary.

"Hm? Oh, fine," Oliver says, trying to wave off his concern. To make the lie more believable he stands up straighter, only to abruptly realize that the table really was the only thing holding him up.

"Oliver!" Tommy shouts. By the time he reaches Oliver all that he's really able to do is offer a controlled fall.

"Jesus, are you ok?!" Tommy demands, taking stock of his friend. Oliver's skin is clammy, and he's barely managing to stay conscious. "I'm calling a doctor," he says, beginning to dig his phone out of his pocket.

"Nnnn" Oliver mumbles as he lifts a hand to cover the phone. "'m fine," Oliver says.

"You have an interesting definition of fine, Ollie," Tommy protests.

"So 've heard," Oliver chuckles.

"What happened?" Tommy demands.

"The Count," Oliver returns.

"He did this to you? Is it Vertigo? Did you take some?" Tommy asks anxiously, checking Oliver's pupils and concerned to find them pinpricks.

"T'mmy," Oliver cuts in on Tommy's rapid-fire questions. "Yes, I ingested some. I took something to counter it, but it's not quite as effective as I'd hoped. I'm just tired and-" Oliver starts, turning his head abruptly to the side.

"And what?" Tommy says, reaching towards Oliver.

"Gonna be sick," Oliver grinds out.

"Oh no, not in here you're not. We've cleaned up enough of that already tonight thank you," Tommy says, gently pulling his friend up. Oliver tries to take some of his own weight, but he was unsuccessful if the way that they're hobbling along is any indication.

Fortunately, the bathrooms are located right next to the bar. Tommy manages to drag them both into the stall, gently lowering Oliver onto the ground as Oliver begins retching into the toilet.

"There it is, let it all out, just like old times," Tommy says, rubbing soothing circles on Oliver's back, as he leans against the stall wall.

"Guh," Oliver groans after emptying his stomach. Tommy helps Oliver sit up, letting Oliver lean on him, as he reaches over to flush. "You done? Dude, it looks like you _ate_ the Nickelodeon slime factory," Tommy offers light-heartedly. Oliver isn't sure if he groans or chuckles in response.

"Ok, up we go," Tommy says, helping Oliver up. Where previously Oliver had tried to carry some of his own weight, now he gratefully leans onto his friend.

"Home?" Oliver manages, as he finds himself collapsing into yet another vehicle. He makes a mental note for Tommy to get a car that isn't so low to the ground.

"My home, not your home," Tommy says as he climbs into the driver's side. At Oliver's questioning look he explains, "Have you seen your house? No way am I carrying your ass up all those stairs. You may be fit and all but you weigh like a thousand pounds!"

Oliver knows it's a chuckle this time, as he lets his eyes slide shut.

AAAAAAAAA

"There you are! I was starting to worry!" Laurel says as she walks out of the bedroom to greet Tommy. Usually she's asleep when he comes home, but it was a weekend, so she had slept earlier so she could see him when he got home.

"Oh my gosh is he ok?!" she exclaims when she sees Tommy all but carrying Oliver into the living room.

"Yeah, yeah," Tommy starts, finally taking a deep breath as he lays Oliver down on the couch. "He's fine, just needs to sleep it off."

"So it was a good night?" Laurel asks, smiling as Oliver squirms in his sleep to get comfy as she tosses a blanket on him.

"It was….Interesting," Tommy offers with a smile, "but good. Yeah. I think it was good."

"Oookay?" Laurel asks, smiling in curiosity.

"Just like old times, right?" Tommy says to limit that curiosity.

"I was about to ask why you didn't just take him home, but then I pictured all the stairs-"

"Exactly!" Tommy exclaims, pulling Laurel in for a hug. She leans back slightly, and he cups her head as he offers her a gentle kiss. "Good morning, beautiful," he says, still holding her and wondering how he managed to get so lucky.

"Good morning, handsome," she returns. "You want breakfast?" she asks as the toast dings in the kitchen.

"You, are a goddess," Tommy returns.

"Damn right," she says, pulling him into the other room as Oliver slept.

Tommy still isn't entirely sure what the Arrow means in the landscape of their lives, but he knows that Oliver is his friend. Maybe that can just be enough for right now, he thinks as he and Laurel take a seat at the table.


End file.
